


The Present

by Universeof7plus2plus1stars



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Light-Hearted, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mischief, Post-Canon, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23838331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Universeof7plus2plus1stars/pseuds/Universeof7plus2plus1stars
Summary: In which Crowley is bored so he decides to prank Aziraphale which turns out to be a pretty bad idea. Things escalate (that's what things do) as Crowley tries to resolve the mess he made.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 10





	The Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so I hope the characterization isn't completely off. English isn't my first language so feel free to point out any errors, grammatical or otherwise. Kudos are appreciated and please enjoy!

“Angel!” the door of the bookshop swung open and a very excited, grinning demon stepped inside. Aziraphale frowned. It’s not like he wasn’t glad to see Crowley, but the demon was difficult to handle when he was gleaming like this.

“Yes, dear?” Aziraphale answered indifferently. He had just started reading an intriguing ancient poetry book so obviously he had to be interrupted.

“Do you know what day it is?”

That caught the angel’s attention. He looked up and put the book aside. Then he clenched his eyes, licked his bottom lip and carefully folded his arms in front of himself. It was a very sophisticated way of expressing that he had no idea.

“The anniversary!” That was too much. Aziraphale sure can be a bit of a mess, but he hated it when he couldn’t remember something important. This sounded like something important.

“Oh, come on, angel! The anniversary of Armageddon? Well, more like Nahmageddon, if you think about it… Point is, I brought you a present!”

“A present?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but be suspicious. He knew how difficult it was for Crowley that he didn’t have to do any obligatory temptations anymore. Not that he missed being an employee of hell, the angel knew he didn’t, not at all. He just missed the mischief.

After the Nahmageddon, Crowley lost a bit of his motivation. Grew lazy, Aziraphale would say if he wasn’t lazy enough before that. Spending much of his time with the angel even worsened the situation. Aziraphale was a bit of a good influence.

“A present, a gift, a hansel, a donation, an offering…” Crowley continued patiently.

“I know what a present is, my dear.”

“Care to open it?”

Aziraphale reached out for the huge shopping bag hesitantly. Then he slowly put his hand inside, readying himself for any sort of animal. Maybe Crowley bought him a snake?

Aziraphale rather hoped not. The demon’s every intention with a snake would be to scare him, but the angel had absolutely no reason to be scared of snakes. Crowley would be disappointed.

The angel exhaled in relief when the thing he touched was smooth, metallic and clearly not moving. He glanced up at Crowley who watched his reaction eagerly. He pulled out the thing to see a… a… he wasn’t sure what.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Aziraphale hesitated. The thing sort of looked like a comb, but it seemed sharper and had a longer handle. The angel was positive he’d never seen anything like it before.

“It’s certainly... interesting. What is it?”

“It’s a comb! Not a regular comb, but, er, a modern version. You see, people got tired of combs and they invented this. The electrical comb!”

“How do you use it?” Aziraphale was a bit cynical. He always had trouble keeping up with all these new inventions, but an electrical comb? Do they really have to change everything?

“That’s really simple. You just switch it on, here...” Crowley pointed at a button on the side “...and brush your hair, same as a regular comb.”

“Thank you, my dear. Very…” Aziraphale saw the sudden darkening of the demon’s face “...evil of you, I must say. To make me feel ashamed that I didn’t buy you a present.” He added for good measure, not even trying to sound convincing.

“Nah, that’s okay. I mean, I only remembered a few hours ago. We should celebrate. Dinner at the Ritz?”

“Sounds lovely.”

***

Crowley regretted the gift moments after he gave it to Aziraphale. He felt completely trapped. It’s not like he could take it back, no, it would be embarrassing and confusing at the same time.

So he tried to convince himself that he was not the one to blame. He practically bumped into the gift, after all. It was a strange coincidence that when he suddenly remembered the anniversary, he was exactly at the mall.

Now, you might ask, what on Earth was a demon doing at the mall? The answer is simple: looking for some fun. After all this time left alone, Crowley was seriously bored and running dangerously low on mischief. It really seemed like this wasn’t his lucky day. Until...

He was looking at windows, when he encountered the strange object. Naturally, Crowley didn’t know what it was at first, so he went inside and asked one of the employees. She was beyond surprised, but happy to answer his question.

“It’s a hair shaver.”

Crowley was fascinated. How close did this thing look to a comb? And that’s when the idea hit him like a shooting star.

The demon wasn’t the best at modern technology, but the angel not being the best at it was the understatement of the millenia. Surely, Crowley would never damage Aziraphale’s clothes, first editions or, Hell forbid, the bookshop, but nothing ever suggested that the angel would be emotionally attached to his corporation, in particular.

So yes, at first it seemed like a good idea. But right now, Crowley was sitting at the Ritz, deeply invested in Aziraphale’s proper nutrition, and silently panicking.

“Is something wrong?” asked the angel cautiously.

“What?” stirred the demon, being pulled back into reality.

“You’re being a tad bit distant. We’re celebrating, after all.”

“Oh, yeah, yes, of course. No, I was just… Doesn’t matter. How’s the cake?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. You should try it” answered Aziraphale with a genuine smile, but still looking somewhat worried. Definitely not a good thing.

“I don’t feel like eating, angel.” He didn’t feel like breathing, either.

“Picked up any new hobbies? You told me that you wrote a... a... kiddle list, is it?”

“Bucket list, angel. And no, I didn’t cross anything out. What about you? Any new hobbies?”

“Well, actually…” the angel’s smile lit up “...last week, I went to the hairdresser. Not to get a new hairdo, of course, but I grew tired of miracling my hair clean from time to time. I thought, why not do it the human way? And I have to tell you, my dear, it was delightful. They even told me that my hair was fluffy! I have to admit, I’m quite fond of it myself, wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“It suits your personality” managed Crowley, pinching himself both physically and mentally. Stupid, stupid, stupid! This was a nightmare. If Aziraphale finds out, he won’t speak to him for a week, or, even worse. He had to do something.

***

After slightly more than one hour of overthinking and imagining the most painful ways of discorporation, Crowley finally came up with an acceptable solution. It wasn’t perfect, of course, but it could definitely work. He just had to wait until Aziraphale fell asleep. Then he would have to find the hair shaver and hide it somewhere the angel would never look. That was the plan.

“Good night, angel” the demon said, sauntering out of the bookshop.

“Good night, dear boy! Sweet dreams!” Aziraphale answered, ever so unsuspecting. Sometimes, he was just too easy to deceive.

Crowley went back to his flat and waited. And waited. And waited. When it seemed like hours have passed, he looked at his watch and gladly noted that he have waited for 10 minutes. It was time to execute the plan.

Driving during the night certainly had its advantages. No angry drivers, no stupid pedestrians striving to be hit. Crowley got out of the Bentley and walked up to the bookshop's door. With a simple miracle, he was inside.

The bookshop was practically asleep. Aziraphale was probably curled up somewhere with a boring book and lots of biscuits. But he didn’t sleep, and Crowley knew that the slightest noise would make the angel suspect a robbery. Why would anyone want to rob a bookshop? The demon shrugged, even though (hopefully) nobody could see him shrug. Angelic fury was the second to last thing he wanted.

The demon creeped through the bookshop. There must be a drawer in this maze or any piece of furniture capable of storing things. Why did the angel have to put everything away?

***

Aziraphale rather liked this day, so far. Crowley bought him a lovely - if somewhat odd - present, they went dining to the Ritz, and he could finally get back to reading the poetry book from earlier. That was until he heard a crushing noise coming from downstairs.

He wasn’t paranoid, no, really he wasn’t. But someone was in the bookshop in the middle of the night and that couldn’t mean anything good. Aziraphale sighed and put the book aside. He just can’t read in peace and quiet, can he?

The angel went downstairs, but didn’t see anything. It was complete darkness. However, there was a strange whining sound coming from behind a shelf. Aziraphale braced himself for the worst and stepped forward to see the invader.

“Crowley??”

“Hello angel” replied Crowley, rubbing at his shoulder where he presumably bumped into one of the bookshelves.

The angel in question was seriously perplexed. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised to find robbers, ghosts, revenge-seeking archangels, but Crowley? What could he possibly be doing in the bookshop in the middle of the night?

“May I ask, what are you doing here?”

“Great question! I couldn’t sleep, see, and thought I’d check in, just to see… to see if you couldn’t sleep either!”

Aziraphale rubbed at his forehead. He was willing to skip explaining that, in fact, he didn’t sleep, if he could just make sense of this whole thing. There was one possible explanation.

“Crowley?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Have you been drinking?”

"Noooo" said Crowley, but immediately met the angel's unimpressed gaze. “S’was one bottle only. Or maybe two? Don’t think I’m in the state to calculate it presice-- precisely.”

“I don’t think you’re in the state either. Let’s get you home, shall we?” said Aziraphale reassuringly, supporting the obviously drunk demon. Who was he to think that this would be some sort of emergency?

As soon as they got outside, the angel’s eyes widened.

“Crowley! Were you driving?”

“Now that you say it…”

“You know perfectly well just how dangerous that is! You could have had an accident, the way you drive…”

“I drive the same way, drunk or not. I drove the same when I got here and I’ll drive the same way getting back.”

“Oh no, no, you’re not going back to your flat. I’m not letting you! You’ll stay here and sober up” stated Aziraphale, effectively dragging the demon back to the bookshop.

***

It was well past midnight when the angel was finally left alone. By now, Crowley has protested, sobered up, then they both got drunk again and had a thoroughly interesting conversation, before the angel managed to convince Crowley to go to bed and sleep.

Aziraphale was too agitated to read poetry, consequently he looked for a different way to occupy himself. That was when the television caught his attention.

The television, that was a whole another story. Crowley has been harassing him for years with buying a flat screen tv. Aziraphale didn’t give in easily. ‘I can watch just about anything I want on a normal television’ he kept saying. ‘Those flat, angled ones fit you better. I’m more of a…’ ‘You like the fubby ones more?’ Aziraphale generously ignored that response, but the demon did convince him, eventually. The flat one really was more practical.

There was, however, one thing he never tried before: randomly switching between channels, for the sole purpose of entertaining himself. It wouldn’t hurt to try. So the angel committed the mistake of turning the tv on. What popped up was seemingly a news channel, addressing ‘an issue concerning all of humanity’. And the angel was horrified.

***

That really could have gone worse, Crowley thought with uncharacteristical optimism. The plan didn’t technically work, but the demon’s mischief wasn’t revealed to Aziraphale either. It seemed like the angel believed the ‘I’m so drunk that I drove to the bookshop for absolutely no reason’ thing.

Crowley looked around and realized that the sun was up. His optimism was gone in the matter of a second. What if the angel used his present? It was morning which means that he may have wanted to try it, brush his hair… The demon was both too sleepy and scared to retrace the consequences.

“Crowley?” came the angel’s voice from downstairs. It sounded calm, but there was a hint of well-masked anger. Oh no. This was bad, but Crowley would only make it worse by staying upstairs. He took a deep breath.

“Coming!”

The demon hesitantly sauntered down the stairs, but didn’t see Aziraphale. He looked left, than right - the angel was nowhere. Maybe he was hallucinating? Maybe, Aziraphale didn’t try it yet, maybe he still had time to hide it…

The slap came so suddenly that Crowley didn’t even have time to act surprised. In front of him stood a remarkably angry Aziraphale, both glaring daggers at the demon and surprised at his own violence. Crowley slowly removed his sunglasses and tapped his burning cheek. He lifted his gaze and stared questioningly at Aziraphale. The angel stared back. Just like the most ridiculous gun duel ever, thought Crowley. He would have involuntarily started snickering if the situation wasn’t tense enough. But the situation was tense, in fact, it was so tense that it started turning into slightly awkward. The demon had to make a move.

“Angel. What was that for.”

“Don’t you play the fool! You know it perfectly well!” snapped said angel, dangerously maintaining the gun duel mentality.

Oh yeah, Crowley knew it, but he was still confused. Would Aziraphale, a living example of peace and softness, straight-out hit him over his hair? His hair. It was only now that Crowley properly looked at it. It was of immaculate length. Wait, wait, wait a second. This means the angel hadn’t used the present. Crowley was even more confused.

“No, Aziraphale, I’m afraid I really don’t” replied Crowley, without any edge and as sheepishly as he could manage.

“I knew you were onto something, I could sense it, but I never thought you’d ever go this low! And I thought you liked humanity! Don’t admit it if you don’t want to, but tell me for whatever reason you did it!”

The demon widened his eyes, even more if that was possible. Humanity? What the bloody flick was the angel talking about?!

“Angel, I’m sure I did some despicable things, but I have no idea what you expect me to say if I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

It was the angel’s turn to be confused. He knew when Crowley was honest with him - it was rare that he wasn’t - , but he was positive this was his doing. Has he made the wrong assumption?

“I’m talking about the virus, Crowley!”

The virus? What virus… Oh. That one.

“Let me get this straight. You thought that I was responsible for a virus causing the death of thousands of people? What exactly is wrong with you?!”

“I wasn’t blaming you for the epidemic, Crowley, of course not. But the panic, Crowley! All the confusion!”

“Angel, however crazy that might sound, I have nothing to do with it. Fine, I sometimes enjoy panic, but I have my limits!”

“But the fake news! The divorces! People are fighting over toilet paper!” the angel tried to validate his point, but he already knew that he was wrong. Crowley was looking way too smug for him to be right.

“I’m so dreadfully sorry! Are you all right?” gave in the angel, putting a comforting arm on the demon’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I s’pose I’ll be fine. You haven’t used the present yet, have you?” asked Crowley very carefully. Maybe he could convince the angel not to use it.

“Oh, the present! I already forgot about that, silly me. I’ll try it right now, thank you for making me remember.”

The demon gulped. The whole thing be damned. He had to think fast, but Aziraphale was already on his way to the bathroom, finding the ‘hairbrush’ - Crowley had no idea how could Aziraphale have such bad memory, but still remember everything’s place.

A terrified yelp came from the bathroom and Crowley froze in his place. The angel soon came out, his hair noticeably shorter in a wide streak. The demon had the most difficult time not to burst out laughing, but after seeing the angel’s hilariously grumpy expression, he failed spectacularly. Crowley half-fell to the ground, trying helplessly to compose himself. He barely saw with teary eyes Aziraphale’s mouth turning radically downwards, then the angel walking towards him. He knew he was in huge trouble and he probably shouldn’t even find this funny, but he couldn’t stop, his ribs now hurting from the laughter.

Aziraphale walked past the demon, without as much as touching him, then up the stairs. Walking inside the bedroom, he carefully close the door behind him. Crowley finally stopped. This was the last thing he wanted. He could deal with angry, grumbling Aziraphale, but calm, polite, silent Aziraphale required a significant amount of time and patience.

***

The next morning, Crowley was standing in front of the bookshop with an expensive box of chocolates (he wasn’t sure the angel would like it, but it was a standard make up present, the demon read on his cell phone). With a deep breath he reached for the handle--

To find that the door was locked. Crowley was surprised, but not taken aback. It would certainly be inconsiderate miracling himself inside when the angel didn’t want to see him, but he just had to try. He snapped his fingers - and fell back to the ground, like a ball bouncing off the basket. The demon stepped closer to the door and saw a strange amount of angelic protection, enough to keep out Beelzebub himself. He needed to find a solution that was more efficient.

***

5 days have passed since the incident, an insignificant time for two immortal beings. During these 5 days, Aziraphale have received over 20 phone calls, 2 rare copies, 3 first editions, some crepes, a box of chocolates, a strawberry cake and a postcard that read ‘I miss you’ - close enough to ‘Please forgive me’.

In fact, by this time Aziraphale was rather close to forgiving the demon. He didn’t mind his hair - he could always miracle it back, after all - , the thing that bothered him more was that Crowley assumed he’d fall for such a petty, ridiculous trick - and he did. Yes, he would forgive Crowley, he really would - but he was waiting for something more dramatic. Walking into Crowley’s flat and acting like everything is back to normal would be… What is that word young people use? Quite lame, the angel had to admit. So Aziraphale waited.

***

She must have a sick sense of humor, thought Crowley. Just a few hours ago, everything was-- well, everything was bad, but it quickly became even worse. How did this thing even happen?

Crowley decided to leave London, on the occasion of obtaining one more first edition - he felt he was close to conciliating Aziraphale. It started heavily raining (why wouldn’t it rain) and the demon was deeply lost in thought. All he saw was the edge of the road, then a tree before he crashed.

Thoroughly surprised, Crowley found himself lying beneath his seat, in an incomprehensible mess of limbs. He fixed the Bentley with a snap, then realized that he couldn’t get up. Not that he was seriously hurt, more that he was stuck between the floor, the car seat and the dashboard. Crowley sighed and pulled out his mobile phone.

***

Aziraphale wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised when the phone started ringing. He hesitated for a second, but didn’t pick up. The phone continued ringing. Crowley wasn’t usually this persistent so this might just be an emergency, thought the angel. It probably wasn’t, but still.

“Hello?”

“Aziraphale! You picked up!” came the ecstatic response. The angel rolled his eyes.

“Yes, what’s the matter? Your voice is a tad muffled.”

“Ah. I had an accident.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened. Crowley’s driving style was certainly  _ interesting _ , but he has never crashed before.

“Good Lord! Is the Bentley alright?” asked Aziraphale. The demon audibly bit back a curse. The angel bit back a half-smile. Crowley must know the hurting was deliberate.

“Yes, she’s fine. But it turns out I can’t move my leg.” Okay, that wasn't completely true. Crowley could definitely move his leg, he just couldn’t get to his feet. It was basically the same thing.

“Could you… help me?”

Aziraphale considered. It wasn’t simple giving up on a grudge like that, but, again, there’s little chance he could find a more dramatic opportunity. Doesn’t mean he will give in easily.

***

In a second, Crowley found himself lying on the couch in the bookshop. He felt Aziraphale standing by his side, but he was too ashamed to raise his eyes at him.

“Pull off your trousers” instructed the angel. ‘They’re jeans’ thought Crowley immediately, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud. Right now, he was in a bit of a compromising situation.

“Shall I make you a coffee?” continued Aziraphale stiffly.

“Yes, thank you” replied Crowley, suppressing his wish for something considerably stronger, and the angel was already off to the kitchen. It was time to remove the jeans. Of course, the demon could just get them off with a demonic miracle, but the angel told him to pull it off, specifically. S’not very angelic, is it.

Crowley carefully unbuttoned the waist and very slowly started to pull it down. Getting to the knees, the rough material uncomfortably frayed his wounds, almost making him hiss. After some more suffering, the jeans were finally down.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale returned from the kitchen with a wet piece of linen and a cup of coffee. He handed the cup to Crowley, refusing to notice the demon’s pained expression.

“Thank you” repeated Crowley, taking a feared look at the coffee.

“You’re very welcome. Now drink it.”

Crowley swallowed and cautiously neared the cup with his mouth. To his slight, but contained surprise, the coffee wasn’t nor salted, neither bad. It was perfectly fine.

“Thank you” said the demon for the third time, partly because he didn’t know what else to say. While he sipped the coffee, Aziraphale sat down next to him and neutrally examined his wounds.

“Can’t you… I mean, could you heal me with a miracle?”

“I’m afraid, my dear boy, that isn’t possible. We agreed to cut down on the use of miracles, besides, I’m sure your knees will heal perfectly well the human way.”

At this moment, Crowley dared to look up at the angel. He didn’t seem satisfied, but the corners of his mouth gave away his ever so slight amusement. So the angel wanted him to suffer, thought the demon. What a bastard indeed.

Aziraphale moved the piece of linen to the demon’s left knee and pressed it down firmly. It stang a lot, as expected, but Crowley promised himself he wouldn’t make a noise. But after a few seconds, he couldn’t bear staying silent. When Aziraphale lifted the piece of linen, he took advantage of the opportunity and tried to jerk away. It was to his surprise that the angel pinned him down with odd strength and pressed the linen back down on his knee, definitely harder than it was necessary.

“Stay still! I’m trying to clean your wounds!” said Aziraphale with indignation, but with more than a hint of masked concern.

Crowley was impressed. Aziraphale could be harsh or annoying on purpose, but this time, he actually cared about what happened to Crowley. He cared a lot. Aziraphale was worried about him, but he still had enough nerve to continue with his ‘revenge’ - funny enough, with all the stupid, hypocritical angels Crowley never have even imagined using the r-word in the same sentence as the name Aziraphale. You always learn something new.

“Aaaaa, angel!”

“What’s the matter?” replied said angel with half-mock ignorance.

“You’re pushing too hard” mumbled Crowley, even though he was pretty sure that was the point. It wouldn’t hurt to try. Wouldn’t hurt much, anyway.

“Oh, I do apologize. All you had to do was ask” was the angel’s soft response, followed by him easing the linen and pressing more carefully. He moved to the right knee and cleared it the same way. Crowley felt a bit bad. Revenge or not (he couldn’t decide at this point), the angel was taking care of him even though the demon did him wrong. He didn’t deserve him. Meanwhile, Aziraphale finished and miracled the linen away to look at Crowley with more obvious concern.

“Do you want to tell me something?”

“I’m sorry” apologized Crowley and Aziraphale knew it was genuine. “Are you angry?”

“No, my dear. I was angry, but I’m not anymore. But will you promise me that you won’t do anything like it again? I don’t mind a little mischief here and there, as long as you don’t hurt anyone.”

“Of course, angel. I promise” answered Crowley, trying to sit up. Aziraphale carefully pushed him back down.

“Don’t get up. Your wounds aren’t serious, but the best thing you can do right now is rest. Some time later we could go for a walk in the park. If you feel like it” added Aziraphale, brushing a hand over Crowley’s forehead.

***

When Crowley woke up, looking up at the clock he saw that 2 hours have passed. He glanced down to his knees and reacted with a surprised yelp, because his wounds were magically healed. Not that much of a bastard, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Having known (and liked) each other for 6000 years, I think it's canonic to say that Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is eternally profound and unlike any other. I wrote them in this story as above all friends, because I felt that describing them mainly as lovers would be denying the compexity of their relationship. That was my opinion, but I'm open to other interpretations. Thanks for reading! If you liked the story, subscribe for more and leave a comment!


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